Adagio for the Moon
by Late For The Sky
Summary: The discovery of a dead Petty Officer starts a long and harrowing investigation for a team in the Major Werecreatures Crimes Response Unit of the NCIS. The race is on to find who is behind the murder, and whether or not there will be more deaths. AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Just a quick note here: this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. All recognizable characters, settings, etc, belong to their owners. I gain no profit in writing this story; merely my own enjoyment and the joy of sharing it with others. The poem used within this story is a derivative of the one in Agatha Christie's fantastic novel, _And Then There Were None_. No disrespect is meant in the adaptation and use of said poem for this story. **(End A/N)**

The sounds of the Major Werecreature Crimes Response Unit flowed around Ziva David as she tried to work on some reports she'd been meaning to get around to for a while now. However, her concentration kept getting broken by Tony, who was throwing wadded up paper balls at Tim. The Middle Beta was studiously ignoring Tony as he worked on some reports of his own, though Ziva could see that Tim's shoulders were getting more and more tense as time went on. Finally, Tim broke down and tore his gaze from his computer screen, his head snapping up as he let out a growl in response to Tony's actions.

'Would you quit doing that already, Tony? I can't concentrate on this,' Tim snapped, an annoyed look on his face. Tony smirked at Tim and then threw another paper ball at him.

'There's nothing else to do, Probie,' Tony said, his grin widening at Tim's reaction. He continued to ball up the sheets of paper that lay on his desk, preparing to continue his assault on his packmate. However, the resumption of the Siege against the Realm of the Elflord was cut short when Gibbs strode into the bullpen, going for his desk and retrieving his Sig Sauer from its drawer.

'Gear up,' Gibbs said, slamming the drawer shut. 'We've got a dead Petty Officer over in Georgetown.'

'Canine or feline?' Tony asked, grabbing his pack. Tim and Ziva did the same, getting to their feet in the process.

'Does it matter, DiNozzo? Get moving!' Gibbs snapped, heading towards the elevator.

'On it, Boss!' Tony replied instantly, following in Gibbs' footsteps. Tim and Ziva quickly fell in line, crowding into the elevator with the rest of their team.

~/~

The team arrived at the crime scene about twenty minutes later, with Ducky and Jimmy getting there a few minutes before them. After they'd signed in with the security officer outside the crime scene tape, the team went into the townhouse where the crime scene was located. Tony began sketching the crime scene and Ziva started taking pictures of the overall area. Tim looked around the room, taking in the disarray surrounding the body before starting to collect evidence.

'So, who is this guy?' Gibbs asked, glancing only briefly at the patrolman on door duty before returning his gaze to the dead Petty Officer laying sprawled on the floor.

'Petty Officer George Warner,' the patrolman said, referencing a notepad he pulled out from a pocket. 'The responding officer saw that the door was open, so he checked it out. Says he didn't touch anything once he saw him lying there. The house belongs to a James Brownfield, who's out of town at the moment, according to his neighbors.'

While the patrolman filled Gibbs in, Ducky crouched near the Petty Officer's body and took his liver temperature with a sterile probe.

'It looks like he's been dead for about four hours,' Ducky reported, placing the probe in a separate plastic bag so that he could sterilize it later. 'I'll know more, of course, when I get him back home. However, I can tell you that he has severe third-degree burns around his wrists and ankles. What caused them will be up to Abby to tell you, though I suspect that they were caused by prolonged exposure to a silver chain, if the patterns on his wrists are anything to go by.'

'How long was he exposed to the silver?' Tony asked, looking up from his sketching.

'It's hard to tell right now, though I dare say I'll be able to tell you more once I'm finished with the autopsy,' Ducky said, looking up from the body. 'Once Officer David is finished with her photographs, Mister Palmer and I will take care of our dead Petty Officer here.'

Gibbs nodded idly, sipping at his coffee while he watched his team work. He only stood there for a minute before Tim called out, 'Boss, I've got something!'

Gibbs hurried over, taking care not to step in or on anything. As it was, the crime scene was pretty clean; it was becoming more and more obvious that this was just a dump site for whoever had killed Warner. Whether or not the townhouse had been specifically chosen for it or if the killer had just randomly picked the house was up in the air, but Gibbs was sure they'd find out soon enough. Tim was near the back door, looking at something he'd picked up from the floor after taking the appropriate pictures of the evidence _in situ_.

'What d'ya got, McGee?' Gibbs asked, coming to a halt near Tim.

Tim held up the evidence bag containing a single piece of printer paper. Gibbs took it, examining the paper. There were two lines of text printed in the exact center of the paper:

_Ten little werecreatures went out to dine;  
One burned his little self and then there were nine._

'Well, that's not creepy or anything,' Tony said sarcastically, having come up beside Gibbs and looked over his shoulder at the paper.

'It reminds me of something I read once,' Tim replied, frowning a bit, 'but I'm not sure what.'

'It says there were _ten_ werecreatures,' Gibbs said, his eyes narrowing in thought as he handed the paper back to Tim. 'Counting our dead Petty Officer, that means that it's possible there're going to be nine more bodies.'

'That means that whoever killed Warner is just beginning,' Ziva said grimly.

'Well, he won't get too far if I've got anything to say about it,' Gibbs informed them, a dangerous glint in his his eyes and the low rumble of a growl to his voice. 'Let's catch this son of a bitch before it's too late.'


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as the team got back to NCIS, they went up to the bullpen, while Ducky started doing the autopsy on Petty Officer Warner. The scant amount of evidence they were able to collect was sent down to Abby in her lab so that the brilliant forensic scientist could work on it. Kate was waiting for them back in the bullpen, her spectral form shimmering ever-so-slightly under the fluorescent lights illuminating the bullpen.

'Hey, Kate,' Tony said, flashing her a grin. 'Just can't stay away, can you?'

Kate sighed. 'Tony, given that I can't exactly leave the building, there's not many places I can go,' she replied, leaning against Ziva's desk and crossing her arms over her chest. 'Anyways, what's the case about?'

'We have a dead Petty Officer downstairs by the name of George Warner,' Gibbs said, putting his gun back into its drawer. 'Used to be a werefeline; a tiger, according to his medical alert bracelet.'

He held up said stainless steel bracelet in its bag; it was identical to the one worn by each and every werecreature in the world. It helped identify what kind of beast they turned into, as well as any allergies to food and medication.

'Was he allergic to anything?' Ziva asked. 'I mean, besides the obvious silver allergy.'

'Nope,' Gibbs replied after a brief glance at the bracelet. 'DiNozzo, get me a BOLO on Warner's car. McGee, I want to know every place Warner's been the past two weeks. David, I want to talk to Warner's CO. Today.'

The three NCIS agents burst into a flurry of activity, Ziva and Tony going for their respective phones while Tim started typing rapidly on his computer, his fingers flying over his keyboard as he began to search for the necessary information. Gibbs settled back in his chair, listening to the sounds of his agents working. Kate watched him for a few seconds before shimmering out of view and reappearing down in Abby's lab.

Of the short list of the things Kate didn't really mind about being dead, being able to instantly transport from one place in the building to another was near the top. The music thrumming through the lab was some sort of electronica; its deep bass line and continually shifting modulated tones created an almost ethereal atmosphere within the sterile confines of the lab. Abby was sitting on one of the rolling chairs she kept in her lab, idly waiting for the results of her tests to come back.

'Abby,' Kate said, raising her voice to be heard over the music. Abby turned, a smile blossoming on her face when she saw Kate standing there.

'Hey, Kate,' Abby replied, gesturing to the free chair next to her. Kate took the seat, leaning back in the chair. 'Come to keep me company while the troops do their work?'

'Everyone else is busy, and Ducky hasn't finished the autopsy yet,' Kate said. Abby nodded.

'Yeah, I know. I'm running some of the samples Ducky collected from Warner's wrists,' she said. 'Major Mass Spec is grinding away at them as we speak.'

A few minutes later there was a beeping from the general direction of the mass spectrometer, making the two women turn away from their conversation about the music currently playing in the lab. Just as Abby went to get the printout from the printer, Gibbs walked in, bearing a Caf-Pow in one hand and his ever-present cup of coffee in the other.

'What d'you got, Abbs?' he asked, handing Abby the Caf-Pow before he acknowledged Kate's presence with a brief nod. Kate was used to her former Alpha's brusqueness, but still got up from her chair out of reflex, even though Gibbs showed no intention of taking it.

'Ducky was right,' Abby told him after taking a drink from the Caf-Pow. 'Warner was bound with silver chain. Well, with a silver-plated chain, anyways. I'm still working on that note you guys found.' She turned back to her computers and brought a scanned image of the note up on the plasmas. 'Nothing really stands out about the paper or ink- it's just generic printer paper and ink that's carried at all the major office supply and mega-marts around town.'

Kate silently read the short message and frowned. 'Hang on, the wording of that message looks familiar,' she said.

'That's because it is,' Abby told her. 'It's an adaptation of _Ten Little Indians_, which is a poem used extensively in Agatha Christie's novel, _And Then There Were None_. It's a good book, actually.'

'Must be why McGee said he recognized it,' Gibbs said. 'Thanks, Abbs.'

'I'm not done yet, Gibbs,' Abby said, turning back to face Gibbs. 'The pattern of the chain used to bind Warner is called a box weave. It's mainly used for jewelry made out of chain links; I've got a belt in the same style, actually.'

'Where can you get one?' Kate asked, looking intrigued.

'Online, mostly,' Abby said. 'I can't tell you where from, unfortunately, without the chains themselves, and even then, that's if the manufacturer put their mark on them. They could've been hand-made by the guy who killed Warner, though that'd be going to a lot of work when you could just buy a steel chain at a hardware store and then coat it with silver.'

'Good work, Abbs,' Gibbs told her, giving her shoulders a brief squeeze before leaving the lab, his long strides briskly taking him out of the room.

~/~

The sudden sound of Ziva slamming down the receiver of her desk phone onto its base made Tim startle and tear his eyes away from his computer screen, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his annoyed teammate.

'Something wrong, Ziva?' he asked, trying to calm his heartbeat. Ziva growled in frustration before answering Tim's question.

'Yes, McGee, there is,' she snapped. 'I am being brickwalled by Warner's CO, a Commander Dalton, who is a most frustrating man. He would not tell me anything and kept calling me "sweetheart" every few minutes. I do not believe I will get anything useful from him.'

'I think you mean "stonewalled", and I'm sorry,' Tim said, trying to soothe Ziva's anger. 'Maybe he'd respond better if someone else called him.'

Ziva gave him a narrow-eyed look. 'Like you or Tony?' she asked.

'Maybe he just doesn't like women, Ziva,' Tony said with a brief grin. 'Of course, it could be your charming personality that won him over.'

Before Ziva could respond to Tony's jibe, Gibbs came striding into the bullpen. 'Tell me someone's got something,' he said, coming to a halt in front of Tony's desk. 'DiNozzo?'

'No hits on the BOLO just yet, Boss,' Tony reported, adopting the rapid tone he always used when Gibbs demanded information. 'I did find out that Warner lived in Bethesda. Single, no kids, wife, or girlfriend on record to speak of, though I haven't talked to any of his neighbors yet to see if they know anything.'

Gibbs turned his attention to Tim, who quickly filled the brief silence left by Tony's finished report.

'Nothing unusual in his bank statements,' Tim said, grabbing the remote to the plasma tv from his desk and turning on said appliance. 'He paid his bills on time, kept a low balance on both of the credit cards in his name, and by all accounts was financially stable. His credit cards haven't been used in over a week, though. His last purchase was at a restaurant near his home. He bought two hamburgers and a Diet Coke.'

'Hell of a last meal,' Tony said. 'Personally, I would've gone for a steak.'

'Doubt he knew he was going to be kidnapped, Tony,' Gibbs said. 'Ziva!'

'Warner's CO, Commander Dalton, was not very helpful when I tried to talk to him, Gibbs,' she told him. 'He would not listen to me or anything that I had to say.' A slight snarl marred her mouth as she continued on with, 'He said that he would only talk to someone with the proper authority, and not to- and I quote -"A glorified secretary with a shiny tin badge and a toy gun." He was most infuriating.'

'I'm sure he was,' Gibbs said, getting his gun out and putting it on. 'Gear up. Tony, take Ziva with you when you go to Warner's house. See if anyone saw anything. Warner had to have been taken from somewhere nearby. McGee, with me.'

'Where're we going, Boss?' Tim asked, grabbing his gun and badge as well and then following Gibbs to the elevator.

'To talk to Commander Dalton, McGee, where else? Get moving!'


	3. Chapter 3

'Did you _really_ have to piss that guy off, Ziva?'

'He should not have whistled like that at me.'

'He was whistling for his _dog_, Ziva, not at you,' Tony said in exasperation.

Ziva frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing as she thought back to the scene a few minutes prior. 'I did not see a dog, nor did I smell one,' she said finally. Tony shook his head, rolling his eyes before pulling the car into a parking spot outside of Warner's apartment building. The two NCIS agents mounted the short flight of steps leading up to the door and then entered the building, Tony referencing his notepad to see what apartment number they should be looking for.

'Looks like we're looking for apartment 305,' he told Ziva. 'Let's see if any of his neighbors noticed anything weird.'

Ziva nodded and then led the way towards the manager's office, only to find that he wasn't there. Giving up on finding the manager, Tony and Ziva headed up to Warner's apartment. When they got there, they found that the door to the apartment was locked. A bad smell was coming from it, one that Ziva and Tony were intimately familiar with: death. Before they could try and get into the apartment, a nearby door opened, revealing an older woman dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a houserobe thrown over the entire ensemble. She peered out at the world from behind thick glasses, and glared suspiciously at Ziva and Tony.

'You from Sanitation?' the woman finally asked, her voice creaky and cracking. 'About time. Whatever's in that 'partment don't smell too good. You gonna take care of it?'

'Well, we've got to see what it is, first, ma'am,' Tony said, not disabusing the elderly woman from her misconceptions. 'You wouldn't know where the super is, would you? We couldn't find him in his office.'

The woman shrugged, pulling her robe tighter around her as she did so. 'That super ain't good for much,' she said. 'Hardly here on a good day, anyways. We've got to do most of the fixin'-up round here, and that good-for-nothin' super only comes round to collect the rent and fix the really big problems. Anyways, if you wanna get in there, I think Missus Johansson over in 312 has a key. She takes care of it when Mr. Warner is gone for a long time.'

'Did Petty Officer Warner ask Mrs. Johansson to care for his home recently?' Ziva asked. The other woman shrugged again.

'Dunno. You'd hafta ask her. He ain't been home for a while, though.'

'Thanks,' Tony said, giving the woman a bright smile. The woman shrugged once again and then went back into her home, muttering to herself as she closed and locked the door behind her. After a quick chat with Mrs. Johansson in 312, Ziva and Tony got the key to Warner's apartment, having shown the woman their badges that identified them as agents of NCIS.

'Ready?' Tony asked. Ziva nodded, and then turned the key, opening the door to the apartment with a latex-gloved hand. The stench of death assaulted the two werefelines, almost overwhelming their enhanced senses. Trying to only breathe through their mouths, Tony and Ziva carefully entered the apartment. The drone of flies filled the apartment; the greatest concentration seemed to be coming from the bedroom. After sharing a glance with Ziva, Tony gritted his teeth and entered the bedroom.

A corpse lay under the covers on the bed, tucked neatly in with the blankets up to its chin. Ducky would have to give an approximate time of death, but judging from the amount of flies, Tony guessed that the body in the bed had been there for at least three days, maybe more. Certainly longer than Warner had been dead, at any rate. The sight of an incongruously pristine white envelope on the bedside table caught Tony's eye, so he carefully made his way over and picked it up once he'd put gloves on.

He examined the envelope, making sure to open it with the flap facing away from him. He had grown wary of strange envelopes after that incident with the plague, but his caution was for naught. No strange powders emerged from the envelope, and from what Tony could see, all that the envelope contained was a single sheet of folded paper.

'Tony, have you found anything?' Ziva called from the living room.

'One dead guy in the bed and an envelope on the bedside table,' Tony replied, carefully taking the paper out of the envelope. He unfolded the paper, a feeling of dread starting to steal over him. His feelings were vindicated when he saw the four sentences that were printed on the paper.

_Nine little werecreatures sat up very late;_

_One overslept himself and then there were eight._

_Greetings, NCIS agents. Having fun yet? The game's not over; there will be more._

'Ziva, we need to call Gibbs. Right _now_.'


	4. Chapter 4

When Tim and Gibbs got to Bethesda Medical Center, they were told that Commander Dalton was in a meeting, but that he would be out in less than ten minutes. The two agents' patience was rewarded when Dalton left the small meeting room not three minutes after they'd arrived.

'Commander Dalton?' Gibbs asked, pushing away from the wall he'd been casually leaning against. Dalton stopped after handing off a file folder to a nearby corpsman.

'Can I help you gentlemen?' he asked, his voice accented with a soft Georgian drawl.

'NCIS. Is there somewhere we can talk to you in private, Commander?' Dalton considered Gibbs' request, and then gestured for the two NCIS agents to follow him into the conference room he and his fellow medical professionals had just vacated. Once the three men sat down at the table, Dalton turned his attention to Gibbs.

'What can I help you with, Agent-?'

'Gibbs,' Gibbs replied. 'This is Agent McGee. We're here because the body of Petty Officer Third Class George Warner was found this morning in Georgetown. He's been murdered.'

To Tim, it seemed like it took Dalton a few too many seconds to school his face into something resembling shocked surprise, but then again, Dalton was only human and didn't have the enhanced senses of a were; to anyone else, the very slight delay might not have been noticeable. Tim kept quiet about his observation, though, as he didn't want to keep Dalton from telling them any vital information.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Dalton said. 'Do you have any idea how he died?'

Gibbs shook his head. 'Not yet. Our M.E was still conducting the autopsy when we left the Navy Yard. What was it that Petty Officer Warner did for you, Commander?'

'That's classified, Agent Gibbs,' Dalton said, frowning slightly. 'All I can tell you is that he was part of a research team. I can't say any more than that.. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to work.' He got to his feet, Gibbs and Tim following his example. After shaking hands with one another, Commander Dalton left the room, heading deeper into the halls of the Medical Center, while Tim and Gibbs headed out to the car they had arrived in.

Just before Gibbs pulled out of the parking lot, his phone rang. He answered it with his customary bark of 'Gibbs,' putting the speaker-phone on when he realized it was Tony on the other end.

'Hey, boss,' Tony said. He sounded grim; Tim wondered what it was that the High Beta had found to provoke such a reaction. 'Ziva and I are at Warner's apartment. We found a body here, and another note like the first one, except this one mentions NCIS. Ziva's on the phone with Ducky; he and Palmer should be here soon.'

'Damn,' Gibbs muttered, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. 'Did you find anything besides the body?'

'Well, we've got some fingerprints and some hairs, but they could just be Warner's, Boss,' Tony said. 'We're going to head back to the office once Ducky's done here.'

'Keep looking while you wait,' Gibbs said. 'I want as much evidence as possible.'

'On it, Boss,' Tony replied. Gibbs shut the phone with an abrupt snap, cutting off anything else Tony might have to say.

~/~/~/~/

Tim met up with Tony and Ziva in the bullpen two hours later; the two had stopped to take quick showers in the locker room, not wanting to smell like a decaying body. Gibbs had gone to see what Ducky had found out from Petty Officer Warner's autopsy. Kate was still with Abby the last time Tim had checked; it was either in Abby's lab or autopsy- when Ducky wasn't in the middle of trying to figure out what had killed someone -that Kate could most often be found. There were other ghosts that made the NCIS building their home, and for some reason, they tended to stay in or near Ducky's domain, even when an autopsy was being conducted.

'Feel better after your shower?' Tim asked as Tony used a towel he'd pulled out of one of his desk drawers to dry his hair some more. Tony didn't answer, but merely threw his towel at Tim, who managed to catch the damp object before it hit him in the face.

'We had to wait an hour in an apartment smelling of dead guy because Palmer got lost. Again,' Tony groused, running his fingers through his hair to try and tame the tousled mess a bit. If anything, the action made his hair even more mussed up than usual. Ziva hid a smile at the sight of Tony's hair, quickly returning her eyes to her computer screen so Tony wouldn't see the laughter dancing in her eyes.

'What do we know about our latest victim?' Tim asked, tossing the towel back at its owner. Tony caught it with one hand and then dumped it in a crumpled heap next to his desk.

'Not much, except that he's a guy,' Tony said, rolling his shoulders and trying to work out some kinks in his back. 'Hopefully, Abby will be able to track him down from his fingerprints.'

Tim frowned. 'He didn't have his ID bracelet on him?' That was odd; from a very young age weres were taught never to remove the bracelets, as they were the only thing preventing medical disasters from occurring. If a were got any other kind of blood besides that of another were, it could turn out to be lethal. Weres had the same blood types- A, B, O, and AB -as humans and vampires, but there was a specific protein in the blood of a were that rejected any blood that did not contain said protein.

Ziva shook her head. 'It was very odd,' she said. 'Perhaps whoever put him in Petty Officer Warner's bed took it with them.'

'Maybe,' Tim agreed.

'What happened with Commander Dalton? Gibbs seemed more grumpy than usual when we saw him earlier,' Tony said, leaning back in his chair. Tim sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he did so.

'Not much, actually,' he replied after a few seconds. 'He was very close-mouthed about what Warner did, and would only tell us that he was part of some sort of research team. Everything else was classified. I tried looking into the files to see what the team was researching, but I couldn't get in.'

'Something even you couldn't get into, McGeek? I'm astonished,' Tony said with a smirk. 'Anyways, Abby's working on the stuff we gathered from Warner's apartment, so hopefully we'll have _something_ to work with soon. Otherwise, we're going to be here for a while.'

'That is very true,' Ziva affirmed, and then fell silent, returning once more to her work. Tim and Tony soon followed her example, each man searching for something that might help them end the hunt for the killer that much sooner.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **My apologies for not updating sooner; I had a huge case of writer's block hit me about halfway through this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to get back on a more regular updating schedule very soon.

~/~/~

As soon as he and Tim got back to the Navy Yard, Gibbs left the younger agent in the bullpen so that he could go down to Autopsy and see what Ducky had found in his examination of Petty Officer Warner. When the elevator doors opened after reaching the Autopsy floor, Gibbs saw four very familiar slightly translucent forms gathered around a small table at the far end of the hall. The four ghosts who were bound to the NCIS building- Kate, Kyle, Nathan, and Erica -could often be found together here, though Kate tended to stay in the bullpen or Abby's lab.

At the moment, the four were playing a game of what looked to be gin rummy, though it was hard to tell from this distance. As Gibbs drew closer, Nathan, a former Navy Lieutenant and werewolf, looked up from his cards and nodded politely at him. 'Afternoon, Agent Gibbs,' he said with a slight smile. 'Ducky's in the middle of an autopsy right now, but I'm sure you'll be more than welcome to go in.'

'Thanks,' Gibbs said, continuing on into Autopsy. Ducky was indeed in the middle of an autopsy; he was weighing the liver of the body Tony and Ziva had found at Warner's apartment. Ducky looked up when the automatic doors hissed open and then nodded to Gibbs, handing the liver to Jimmy before stripping off his latex gloves and throwing them into a bio-waste container.

'Ah, Jethro, I was wondering when I might be seeing you again,' he said, moving over to his desk and retrieving the file containing the results of Warner's autopsy and blood work. 'I suspect you're here for this.'

'If those are Warner's results, then yeah, Duck, I am,' Gibbs said, leaning against Ducky's desk.

'Well, then, you'll be interested to know that our young Petty Officer did, as I initially surmised, die of acute silver poisoning. There was three times the lethal dose of silver in his system, according to the blood work Abby returned to me. Other than the third-degree burns on his wrists and ankles, there was no other external signs of trauma,' Ducky told Gibbs, handing him the file folder after a brief examination of its contents to refresh his memory. 'He was most likely bound for a long period of time; five days at the very least.'

'That long?' Gibbs was surprised at Ducky's estimate; surely someone would've noticed Warner's absence after a few days, let alone a near week. He turned this thought over in his head, a frown forming unconsciously on his face as he did so.

Ducky watched Gibbs think, noting that the younger Were had slipped into one of his infamous taciturn silences. It was broken when Gibbs suddenly blinked and then nodded, dragging himself out of his thoughts. 'Thanks, Duck,' he said, tapping the folder. He turned his attention to the body currently undergoing autopsy, an eyebrow raising as he saw Jimmy watching them.

'Any ID on this guy?' Gibbs asked, tipping his head slightly in the direction of said body.

'Not yet,' Ducky said with a sigh, taking a fresh pair of latex gloves from a nearby box and then rejoining Jimmy at the autopsy table. 'Abby is running his prints and DNA, though I suspect we'll have better luck with the DNA results. This poor fellow's hands were starting to stick to the sheets.' He laughed softly. 'That reminds me of a young man I once knew,' he continued on. 'He had the worst case of excessive- Jethro?'

Ducky looked around. When he couldn't find Gibbs anywhere, he shook his head and turned back to Jimmy and the John Doe. 'Oh well. I'm sure _you _will find this interesting. As I was saying...'

~/~/~

By the time Gibbs left Ducky's domain, the four resident ghosts of NCIS had abandoned their card game, leaving for parts unknown. Gibbs noted this as he waited for the elevator to arrive. Once said conveyance had opened its doors, Gibbs got in and pushed the button for the level that Abby's lab was on. He didn't have a Caf-Pow with him this time around, but Abby would have to deal with that as she always did: by using the spare one she kept in one of her refrigerators.

Abby wasn't in the main part of her lab when Gibbs arrived, and he couldn't find her in the smaller lab space at the back of the main room. Wondering where his forensic scientist had gotten off to, Gibbs pulled out his cell in preparation to call Tim or Ducky, as Abby was most likely in their company if she wasn't in her lab. As it turned out, Gibbs didn't need to call anyone, because Abby came hurrying into the lab just as he was about to hit the speed dial for Tim.

'You came early, Gibbs!' Abby said with a tone of mild disapproval. 'I haven't finished running the DNA from our John Doe downstairs, so I can't tell you who he is yet.'

'Can you tell me if he was a Were?' Gibbs asked after taking a sip from his coffee.

'Of course I can,' Abby replied, her pigtails bouncing slightly as she came to a halt in front of her computer. After a few seconds of rapid typing, a result came up on the main plasma screen. 'He's a Were, just like you thought,' Abby continued on. 'Of course, it was highly unlikely that he wouldn't be, what with that note and all.'

'Speaking of that note, did you get anything off of it?'

Abby shook her head, sending her pigtails flying once more. 'Nope,' she said. 'It's the same as the first: no fingerprints, latent or otherwise, no hairs, and no residue of any kind. Whoever's writing the notes is clever, Gibbs. The most that I can tell you is that the same printer was used to print each note. Find me that printer, and I can match it to the ink fingerprint left behind.'

'Good work, Abs,' Gibbs said in response. 'Call me when you've got something more, okay?'

'I always do, Gibbs, you know that.'

With a smile, Abby turned back to her work, leaving Gibbs to show himself out. He did so, his thoughts running a mile a minute as they always did when he was in the middle of a case. As he waited for the elevator, Gibbs wondered just where this case would lead him and his team, and what price would have to be payed to solve it. He just hoped it wasn't a steep one.


	6. Chapter 6

It was almost four o'clock when the matches to Abby's DNA search and Ducky's dental record search for the identity of the unknown Were in Autopsy came back. The body was that of Seaman Jason Proctor. His last known station was at Norfolk, but he had been transferred to a classified project some three months back. The coincidence of this didn't sit well with Gibbs. There was far too much classified stuff going on with this case.

What really got to Gibbs was the fact that Proctor was only twenty years old, a young pup by both human and Were standards. Granted, the average Were tended to live about as twice as long as a baseline human barring any accidents or foul play- well, a full-blooded Were did, anyways; Gibbs himself was only half-Were, so while he could shift into a wolf form, he had a normal human's lifespan -but it still struck a chord in Gibbs' gut to see someone that young on Ducky's table, Were or not.

With a soft sigh, Gibbs got up from his chair and headed upstairs to MTAC, where he knew Jenny would be. The lights were dimmed as usual, and the large video screen showed a convoy of trucks and Humvees trundling along on some stretch of desert road that could have been anywhere in a half-dozen countries. Gibbs took a seat next to Jenny, sipping at his fifth cup of coffee of the day while he waited for his Director and mate to be able to talk to him without interruption. Gibbs and Jenny were able to be professional with one another at work, and were skilled at keeping their home and work lives separate. It was inevitable that the two would occasionally leak into one another, but for the most part, it didn't affect them that much.

Today hadn't been one of the days the two had had to worry about that happening, so Gibbs was content in waiting for Jenny to finish what she was doing. Eventually, whatever it was that Jenny was overseeing didn't need her attention any more, so she turned her focus on Gibbs, the large view screen going to a neutral holding pattern with the NCIS logo in the center of the blank screen.

'How's the case going?' Jenny asked, turning her head to better see Gibbs, who gave a noncommittal shrug in response.

'We've got two bodies down in Autopsy, and promises of more to come,' he replied finally, taking a long pull from his coffee cup. 'Abby's going over the forensics again, but so far, we don't have much of anything to go on.'

Jenny gave him an appraising look. 'And you're worried we might have to wait until more bodies turn up before we can catch whoever's doing this,' she said, her tone more that of a statement than a question. 'What does that famous gut of yours tell you?'

'That Commander Dalton knows more about what's going on than he's telling us,' Gibbs said, tipping his coffee cup back to get at the last dregs of the bitter drink contained within. He fell silent, trying to figure out a way he and his team could circumvent Dalton's roadblocks. 'Something's going on at Bethesda, Jen, and I want to know what it is _before_ someone else has to die,' Gibbs growled softly after a few minutes' silence.

Jenny laid a hand on Gibbs' forearm for a brief moment before saying, 'Let me see what I can do. Go ahead and get back to work, Gibbs.'

~/~/~

Tony watched Gibbs head up to MTAC, a concerned look forming on his face momentarily in response to his Alpha's somewhat dark mood. Tony knew that Gibbs was troubled by their current case, even if the older Were didn't say it out loud. As High Beta in their informal Pack, as well as the one who had worked the second-longest with Gibbs, Tony tended to be more in tune with their boss' emotions, though Ducky and Abby were up there as well.

Tony sighed, an action that caught the attention of both Tim and Ziva. Tim, who had been trying to go over Seaman Proctor's financial records, looked up from his computer, tilting his head slightly in a quizzical manner that told his teammates just how tired he actually was. Tim normally had a great measure of control over his more animalistic side, but when he got tired, certain traits and habits carried over into his human mannerisms.

'Something wrong, Tony?' Tim asked, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing at his face with one hand in an effort to banish his weariness.

'Not really, McGruff,' Tony replied, turning his attention back to his own computer. He had been checking to see if anything had come of the BOLO on Warner's car, but so far no luck. Long minutes passed as Tony aimlessly drummed his fingers against his desk, and then a notification popped up on his desktop, a call coming in a few scant seconds later. Once Tony had finished talking with the officer on the other end of the line, he hung up the phone with a swift motion and did a quick victory dance in his chair, going 'Hah, finally!' as he did so.

At Tony's cry of triumph, Ziva got up from her desk and went over to his desk, craning her neck to try and see what had caused Tony's sudden turn of mood. 'What happened?' she asked, just as Gibbs returned from MTAC. Upon sighting his boss, Tony quickly typed something into his computer and then got up from his chair, snatching the remote for the plasma from its usual spot on top of his filing cabinet before turning to Gibbs.

'I just got a call from Annapolis PD,' Tony said with a grin, turning the plasma on and showing a map of the Annapolis area, with a dot marked on it where Warner's car had found. 'The BOLO on Warner's car finally came back. It was spotted in one of the parking garages at the Annapolis Mall. It's apparently been there for a while.'

'Good. Gear up. Let's go see what we can find.'


	7. Chapter 7

The crime scene- for that's what they were treating Warner's car as -had been cordoned off at five spaces deep on either side of the car, meaning that there were a few cars within the boundaries of the crime scene that belonged to civilians. The owner of one such car was standing outside the tape barrier when the team rolled up in the NCIS van, a tow truck affiliated with NCIS following along behind to take Warner's car back to Abby once Tony, Tim, and Ziva were finished processing the main crime scene.

The owner of the "trapped" car was berating one of the mall's security guards, who looked like he'd only been on the job a week at the most. There was a police officer watching them out of the corner of her eyes; the stylized black bat pins on her lapels that marked her as a vampire let the NCIS agents know that she'd be able to break up any potential altercations that might occur between the two men. To his credit, the security guard was managing to hold his own without getting too angry at the other man, even though the irate mall-goer was far too close into his personal space, and who was also yelling at near-top volume.

'Do you know who I am?' the suited man was yelling. 'I am a high-ranking member in an important Pack in DC, and there'll be hell to pay if you don't let me get to my car and get out of here!'

Tony snorted softly. 'If that guy's a high ranking member of _any _Pack, I'll eat McGee's hat,' he muttered to Tim and Ziva as they got their gear out of the back of the truck. Gibbs had gone to talk to the Annapolis PD officer, barely batting an eyelid when he caught the vampire's cold scent.

'Hey, why my hat?' Tim asked, looking annoyed. 'Why not _your_ hat, Tony?'

'Because, McGoo, I like my hat. Anyways, isn't Abby always saying how she likes you without your hat? I'd be doing you a favor, not to mention saving the world from the sight of your horrendous hat-hair.'

'Oh, like you are one to talk, Tony,' Ziva joined in. 'Your hair often looks like the back of a porcupine after you take your hat off.'

'I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Ziva,' Tony whined, pulling a face as he readied his camera to take the overall shots, while Tim would be doing the close-ups. Ziva had lost on the rock-paper-scissors match on the way over- thankfully, the traffic had been somewhat heavy, so they weren't inconvenienced by Gibbs' often hectic driving -and had gotten the duty of doing the crime scene sketch.

'Just because I am your partner does not mean I have to agree with you all the time,' Ziva replied. 'Besides, I do not think we would work together as well if I were some sort of yes-person.'

'Yes-man,' Tim corrected idly as he checked the driver's door to see if it was unlocked. The outer lock didn't seem to have been forced in any way, and the car was in such a protected spot that it hadn't been broken into, though that could have been more out of luck than anything else. Having already put on a pair of latex gloves, Tim carefully opened the door, snapping pictures of the interior of the car once he had done so.

'What?' Ziva asked, pausing in her sketching to look at Tim.

'The phrase is "yes-man", Ziva,' Tony said with a soft sigh. 'Not "yes-person".'

'I am not a man, Tony,' Ziva replied tartly. 'That phrase does not apply to me, anyways. I have never been much of a follower, as you well know.'

'Yeah, I know, Ziva,' Tony said, turning back to his photos. 'Hey, McGee, pop the trunk while you're there, would you? I want to make sure we don't have any surprises waiting for us back there.'

'Sure.' Tim hit the button for the trunk release, the catch letting go with a soft _snick_ of sound. Tony checked the trunk, but didn't find anything beyond the spare tire.

'Huh. Not even an old shoe,' Tony remarked. 'Weird.'

'Definitely,' Tim said, finishing up with his work inside the main body of the car. 'I've got nothing here, either. We need to get this to Abby. Maybe she can find something we can't.'

'Yeah.'

~/~/~

Three hours later, Team Gibbs (plus Kate) were gathered in the evidence garage at Abby's request, though Kate had just been keeping Abby company as the brilliant forensic scientist worked on Warner's car.

'Gibbs, this car is too clean,' Abby said once everyone had arrived, though Tony was relatively sure the petite Goth shouldn't have been smiling that broadly when she announced this.

'And?'

'And, it means that someone had Warner's car detailed,' Abby continued on, her smile as bright and cheery as ever. 'Every last inch has been cleaned and wiped down. Well, almost every inch. Tony, come here.'

Tony obligingly stepped forward and then sat down on the rolling chair Abby gave him when she motioned for him to do so.

'What's the one spot you never clean in your car?' Abby asked, looking around at the assembled agents, both alive and dead, with an expectant air about her. 'Okay, unless you're really obsessive about it.'

'Well, if you're Tony, the back of his trunk,' Tim said. 'There're old gym socks back there that probably have sprouted legs and nearly discovered fire by now.'

'Oh, like you're one to talk, McGee,' Tony snarked. 'You have more unused napkins in your glove box than any sane man should. It's like you're saving up for a second Great Flood or something.'

'Stop it, you guys,' Abby said, failing to keep the laughter out of her voice. 'Since you haven't guessed yet, let me give you a clue: Whoever drove the car to the mall was somewhere around six feet tall. Petty Officer Warner is five foot seven at best. Class, what does this tell us?'

'That whoever drove the car adjusted the seat,' Tony replied, comprehension dawning on his face as he spoke. 'And whoever had to do that-' here he leaned forward a bit, reached between his knees, and pantomimed using a lever, 'had to use the seat lever to adjust for his greater height.'

'I got three slightly smudged fingerprints off the lever,' Abby told them. 'I ran them through the computer and got a ninety-three percent match.'

'A match to who, Abbs?' Gibbs asked, sounding impatient for Abby to get to the point.

'Commander Alexander Dalton. There's your way in to his secret project of hinkyness.'

Gibbs smiled; it was a slow, dangerous smile that showed far too much teeth. It did not bode well for Commander Dalton now that Gibbs had something to use against him. Not at all.


	8. Chapter 8

She ran, her heart pounding as she forced her exhausted limbs to keep moving. They had let her out and she was going to make the best of it, even if the ones who were forcing her to run didn't expect her to live. If she'd had the breath to do it, she would've laughed at the absurdity of her situation. She hadn't expected to be running for her life so soon after coming back; hell, she'd almost welcomed the reprieve from life-threatening situations when her former base had been shut down, but apparently she was fated to continue risking her life, however involuntary it was.

She was sure that there was some sort of magical geas on her that compelled her to keep moving, and she hated it. She was lost somewhere west of DC, having been released in the woods under the cover of twilight and told to start running. Before she'd been releases, however, the man who had been overseeing everything- and she would _definitely_ be remembering his face and scent for a long time -had put something into the outer pocket of her jacket. She had been tempted to see what was in the envelope, but something told her that the contents were best left undisturbed.

The sound of car motors caught her attention, so she made her slow way towards it, hoping that maybe there would be someone there who could at least get her some help. She stumbled out of the trees and into the back parking lot of what looked like a gas station. With a soft sigh of relief, she staggered to the front of the station and sank to the ground, her body hitting the cracked concrete of the sidewalk in front of the convenience store, darkness pulling her into oblivion.

~/~/~

Gibbs' frustration with the case was starting to spread to the rest of the team, especially after they had learned that Commander Dalton had left for parts unknown a scant hour after Gibbs and Tim had left Bethesda. The frustration manifested itself in small but significant ways; it came to a head when Tim snapped at Ziva, something he rarely, if ever, did, when she had unconsciously started to tap her pencil against her desk as she worked. There was a brief moment of stunned silence from all of them, and then Tim stuttered an apology before getting up from his desk and heading over to the elevator, presumably to visit Abby in her lab.

Even though the two geekier members of Gibbs' team hadn't officially made any kind of announcement about it, it was a pretty well known fact that the two considered one another as mates, and could often be found in each others' presences outside of work. Sometimes it seemed to Tony that Tim had a better love life than he did, but until he admitted to himself that he had feelings for Ziva, Tony doubted that the situation would improve any time soon. He often wondered if Ziva felt the same way, but hadn't quite worked up the nerve to ask her. He'd get around to it one of these days, though.

Ziva watched the elevator doors close, blocking Tim from view, and then turned her gaze back to her computer. Across the way, she could see Tony lost in thought, and wondered what it was her partner was thinking about. Of course, she often wondered that, and conversations with Kate and Abby had reassured her that this wasn't uncommon. To Tony's credit, Ziva had often seen him play up the apparent frat-boy facade that he wore like a second skin to tease information out of a possible suspect, and it seemed to work most of the time, surprisingly enough. She knew that his playful persona was often a mask Tony wore to hide how good of an agent he was; after all, Ziva highly doubted that Gibbs would have kept Tony on his team if all the younger agent did was goof around all the time.

Speaking of Gibbs, after the news that Dalton was nowhere to be found had come in, he had gone downstairs to find out the official cause of death for Jonas Proctor, as well as to see if Ducky and Jimmy had anything else on Warner. That had been thirty minutes ago, and Ziva had a sneaking suspicion that Ducky had enlisted some of the ghosts that resided in Autopsy to help distract Gibbs from thinking about his current case, a formidable task indeed.

Tony sighed, something Ziva noticed he had been doing a lot lately, and shook his head, as if the motion could clear his thoughts like an Etch-a-Sketch.

'Something on your mind, Tony?' Ziva asked, abandoning the pretense of work and focusing fully on her partner. Tony shrugged and then turned the motion into a long, slow stretch. A yawn escaped him, and Ziva could see the weariness pulling at the small muscles around his eyes.

'Besides the case? Not really,' Tony replied, settling back in his chair. 'You?'

Ziva returned Tony's one-shouldered shrug, rolling her shoulders as she did so to try and relieve the tension she felt there. It didn't exactly help that the full moon was so close; there were only four days left until the urge to Shift got too overwhelming. Luckily, NCIS had its own internal facilities for agents unable to make it to a branch of the CPC- the Center for Preternatural Control -that could accommodate over a hundred Weres at one time if needed, safely and humanely; more often than not Gibbs' team spent the three nights of the full moon together in one of the larger padded containment rooms, with Ducky joining them once he had finished his daily duties.

The containment rooms were comfortable enough, but sometimes Ziva missed running through the wilds of the private sanctuary her father owned, feeling the night wind, cool and clean, on her fur. While the walls of the large underground rooms were indeed padded with fabric- mainly for sound proofing purposes -the floors were made of magically maintained sod, which helped some.

'It has been a long day,' Ziva said. 'I think all of us could use some sleep.'

'Yeah, probably,' Tony agreed. 'Two bodies in one day, with the possibility of there being more out there? It'd take the energy out of anyone.'

Ziva nodded her agreement and then the two of them fell into a companionable silence, letting the sounds of the bullpen surround them as they worked.

~/~/~

The blessed quiet of the elevator helped to calm Tin down a little bit, but it didn't relax him entirely That only happened when he reached Abby's lab, the familiar intermingling scents of Abby and the chemicals she used in her work washing over him as soon as the elevator doors opened. Abby herself was trying to track the GPS signal in Commander Dalton's cell, but the phone seemed to have been turned off.

'Hey, Abby,' Tim said with a tired smile. 'Any luck yet?'

Abby swiveled around on the rolling stool she was sitting on, a bright smile blossoming on her face when she saw Tim standing nearby.

'Timmy!' she said, getting up and throwing her arms around him in a hug that Tim gladly returned. He usually didn't like anyone calling him "Timmy," but Abby was a special case. With her, the name was never meant to tease or ridicule, but used in earnest affection towards him. That was one of the many things Tim loved about Abby; she had such an effervescent spirit, regardless of the stresses of her job and its often macabre nature.

'You okay?' Abby asked, releasing Tim halfway so that she could get a good look at his face.

'Sort of,' Tim admitted. 'I'm tired, mostly. It's been a long day, and it's probably going to get even longer.'

'Well, you can always take a nap on my futon mattress if you want to,' Abby said, gesturing at the padded mat in its cubby. 'You can use Burt as a pillow.'

Tim smiled gratefully at Abby, taking Burt from her and then going over to the futon mat and setting the farting hippo plushie on the mat. He was just tired enough to take Abby up on her offer, and knew that she would wake him up if Gibbs needed him. It was a testament to Tim's weariness that he Shifted directly to his Were form- that of a Chocolate Labrador -curled up in a tight ball on the mattress, and fell asleep almost immediately, using Burt as a pillow.

Abby watched him fall asleep, a fond smile curving her lips as she returned to her work, turning down the volume of her music slightly so that Tim's much needed sleep wouldn't be interrupted by its noise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note**: So, I'm crossing over my two Were!Verses (NCIS & SGA) a bit earlier than planned, but I doubt y'all care, right? I'm just gonna go with that assumption. Anyways, on to the fic.

~/~/~

Gibbs walked into the bullpen the next morning to find three empty desks. Given that Tony, Ziva, and Tim were normally at work by this hour, Gibbs was surprised not to see any of them. The rumble of a sleepy purr coming from the general direction of Tony's desk caught Gibbs' attention, so he went over to investigate.

Tony lay behind his desk, sleeping soundly. At some point in the night he had Shifted to his Were form- that of an Eurasian Lynx -something that tended to happen to any Were if they were dreaming or in a deep sleep. Gibbs took in the sight of his High Beta for a moment and then sighed. As much as Tony probably needed the rest, unfortunately, Gibbs would have to wake him up. They needed to get to work.

'DiNozzo, wake up!'

At the sound of Gibbs' barked order, Tony woke up, scrambling to his feet before he was even fully awake.

~_I'm up, Boss!_~ Tony yelped, his mental voice coming in strong over the Pack Bond he and the rest of the team shared. Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Ziva poke her head over the top of her desk, he black fur ruffled from sleep. When she saw that nothing immediately important was going on, the panther-that-was-Ziva ducked back behind her desk. A few unpleasantly organic sounds later, Ziva was getting to her feet, fully human and mostly awake. The clothes that she had been wearing the previous day were rumpled, but she tugged the wrinkles out the best she could. They all kept spare clothes in the locker room; if they had time, Ziva, Tony, and Tim could change their clothes before they headed out.

'Where's McGee?' Gibbs asked, noticing that Tim hadn't responded to his wake-up call.

'He had gone down to Abby's lab the last time we saw him,' Ziva replied. 'He is probably still there.'

'I didn't see him come back upstairs,' Tony added after Shifting back to human.

'Well, go get him,' Gibbs said. 'I got a call on my way in here. We have another victim, and this time, they're alive.'

~/~/~

After finding Tim in Abby's lab- the two had been curled up together on Abby's futon mattress, with Abby using Tim as a pillow -the team headed out to the Reston Hospital Center, where the latest victim, a Marine Lieutenant, was being cared for. Gibbs sent Tim and Tony to talk to the Lieutenant's doctor, as well as to gather her personal effects and the envelope and then get them to Abby. Ziva and Gibbs went up to the Lieutenant's room, only to find that the strawberry-blonde woman already had two visitors.

The Lieutenant was dozing, with the adjustable bed she was lying on inclined at a comfortable angle, while her two visitors- both men, and both Weres -sat on chairs nearby, talking quietly to one another as they sat there. When Gibbs and Ziva walked into the room after showing the security guard outside the door their credentials, the two men fell silent, watching the newcomers with wary eyes.

'Can we help you?' the lankier of the two asked after glancing at his companion.

'We are Agents David and Gibbs , NCIS,' Ziva said, producing her badge once again and showing it to the men. 'Who are you?'

'I'm Major Evan Lorne, and this is my mate, Doctor David Parrish, Ma'am,' the other man said, getting to his feet. 'Laura- Lieutenant Cadman -is part of our Pack.'

At the mention of her name and the sound of a familiar voice, Laura stirred, a soft curse escaping her before she managed to open her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes, and then made a soft noise of surprise at the sight of David and Evan. Completely ignoring the fact that Gibbs and Ziva were there as well, Laura spoke, her voice slightly raspy as she did so.

'What're you two doing here?' she asked, turning her her head to keep track of David, who had got up from his chair and headed over to her bedside, taking her IV-free hand gently in both of his.

'We didn't have anywhere else to be, Laura, and Landry was busy enough worrying over Sheppard's team to bother with not letting us come,' David explained. Laura furrowed her brow, looking confused, but David shook his head. 'I'll tell you later. Anyways, we caught a ride with Caldwell, so we got here in record time. Coughlin and Reed are back at the mountain, since it didn't make much sense for all of us to come.'

'I am sorry to interrupt you, but we need to ask Lieutenant Cadman a few questions,' Ziva said. 'If you would wait outside, this will not take long.'

Laura turned her head at the sound of Ziva's voice, a mildly muzzy smile passing across her face when she saw her.

'She reminds me of Teyla,' she told David, who smiled in amusement at his packmate.

'David and I will be right outside if you need us, Laura. If you need us, just call, okay?' Evan said, beckoning for David to follow him outside. With one last gentle squeeze of Laura's hand, David accompanied Evan out of the room, leaving the door cracked open as they left. Gibbs and Ziva moved closer to the bed. Ziva taking out her notebook and pen, prepared to write down whatever Laura had to say.

'Let's start with how you got involved in all of this,' Gibbs said, getting straight to the point. 'Start from the beginning, and do the best you can.'

Laura nodded, shifting a bit to get more comfortable before starting with her testimony.

'I was transferred to Quantico a month ago, after my old base... well, I suppose you can say it got downsized. Anyways, I was told that I should take part in this project that was supposedly meant to test how different kinds of Weres handled stressful situations. I thought it would involve a few stress tests, maybe an endurance test or two.'

'Obviously, that wasn't the case,' Gibbs commented. Laura smiled wryly.

'Obviously. Two weeks after last month's full moon, I was told to report to Bethesda, which made sense. I mean, where else would you want to do medical tests like that? Once I got there, I was taken to a room and given a shot.' Laura frowned slightly, annoyance making her bite briefly at her lower lip, but then she continued on. 'I don't really remember much after that until I woke up in the van. It's all a big blur.'

'Van?' Ziva asked.

'Yeah, van,' Laura affirmed, rubbing absentmindedly at the back of her neck with her free hand. 'There were four guys there; none of them were Weres or any kind of preternatural, which I thought was weird. One of them put an envelope in my pocket and told me to start running. It wasn't until after I started moving that I realized I must've been enchanted, because I sure as hell couldn't stop. Well, not until I passed out, at least. You know the rest.'

'Did you see the face of the man who gave you the envelope?' Gibbs inquired. 'Did anyone say his name?'

'I might've heard someone say "Jonas," but it was dark enough that I couldn't quite make out who they were looking at. I _did_ get a good look at the guy's face, though, and I definitely remember his scent,' Laura told him, yawning as the machines next to her bed doled out another regulated dose of pain and sleep medicines.

'We'll set you up with a sketch artist,' Gibbs told her. Laura nodded, and then seemed to remember something.

'Hey, Evan's a really good artist, and he's already here. Maybe he could help.'

Ziva glanced at Gibbs, wondering if he would take Laura up on her offer, and then mentally sighed. Gibbs had that look in his eyes that told the ex-Mossad agent he would do anything to get this case closed as soon as possible so that nobody else would get hurt or die. Well, they could always bring in a sketch artist affiliated with NCIS at a later date to verify the sketch Evan would make. Regardless, it couldn't hurt to try.

'Go get him, Agent David.'

Ziva nodded and went over to the door, poking her head outside to see Evan and David sitting in one of the small waiting rooms nearby. 'Major... Lorne, was it? We need your help with something. Would you come in here, please?'

Evan and David exchanged looks once more, and then Evan got up.

'How can I help?'


	10. Chapter 10

While Gibbs and Ziva were busy, Tony was trying to track down Laura's doctor, having sent Tim back to the Navy Yard with Laura's personal effects and the all-important envelope. Currently, Tony was waiting for Doctor Sanchez to come out of one of her other patients' room, but he had been told it wouldn't take much longer. Whether or not that would turn out to be true remained to be seen; Tony hadn't been told how long whatever procedure Doctor Sanchez was doing would take, nor how long she had already been doing it.

Tony shifted around on the chair he was sitting on in one of the small waiting rooms scattered around each floor of the hospital, struggling to get comfortable, even though the chair was nicely cushioned. He'd never really liked hospitals; the pervading astringent scents of disinfectants and cleaning products never sat well with Tony. That episode with the pneumonic plague hadn't helped much to endear him to places intensely devoted to the medical and healing arts, either.

It took a good forty-five minutes for Doctor Sanchez to finally emerge from the room, during which Tim had called Tony to tell him that he'd be staying at NCIS to help Abby with the GPS search on Commander Dalton's phone while the forensic scientist focused on the newly arrived evidence. Tony supposed it was a good thing they'd taken two cars; Gibbs and Ziva had gone ahead while Tim was still getting ready, leaving Tony to drive the two of them to Reston. As it was, Tony wasn't exactly looking forward to driving back with Gibbs and Ziva, given their idiosyncratic styles of driving, but he supposed he'd just have to make do and deal with it like the grown man he was.

Doctor Sanchez was an older woman who looked to be in her early fifties but as she drew near, Tony caught a whiff of a mildly spicy scent and revised his initial assumption. The good doctor was a Fae, most likely a _duine sìth- _a Clan known for their healing abilities- if Tony was to be any judge, so appearance could be very deceiving, given the Fae's innate talent for glamours. Doctor Sanchez could be anywhere from her apparent age to a hundred times that and Tony would never know without asking her, something he'd never even think of doing in the first place. Having a Fae being annoyed or offended at him was _not _on his To-Do list for his life.

'Doctor Sanchez?' he asked, getting to his feet and producing his credentials for her to see. 'I'm Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, and I need to talk to you about one of your patients.'

Sanchez frowned, her dark brown eyes narrowing slightly even as she inspected Tony's badge. Tony was, sadly, used to this kind of reception from those in the medical field, since usually someone from law enforcement asking for information about a patient meant extra time spent on paperwork that could be used elsewhere, not to mention the restraints of the HIPAA laws that affected just what information the doctors could and couldn't give out.

'Which patient would that be, Agent DiNozzo?' Sanchez inquired, sounding resigned to the fact that she'd have to be dealing with Tony for the near future. Tony gave her a charming smile, but his attempts to smooth Doctor Sanchez's ruffled feathers didn't seem to work.

'Lieutenant Laura Cadman. She was brought in last night after collapsing at a gas station. I just need a copy of the preliminary file on her, and then I can be out of your hair.'

Doctor Sanchez gave him a skeptical look.'You could have just faxed over a request, you know,' she told him, and then sighed. 'I'll give you what I can, but if you need anything else, you'll have to come back with a subpoena.'

'Of course,' Tony said, trying out his best smile on the Fae doctor. He didn't get as icy a reception as last time, which gave him some hope. It took a while for one of the nurses that Sanchez had recruited to help Tony- she had to get to her next patient -but eventually Tony had Laura's file in his hands. It would be going to Ducky, who would be looking it over before adding it to the case file.

Now that Tony had the file, he could rejoin Ziva and Gibbs. Of course, now he had to find them. Thankfully, that wouldn't be too hard; he'd just follow the gentle tug of the Pack Bond to where his team was. Being a Were was incredibly useful at times, Tony had to admit, even if it did have its occasional downsides. Still, the good far outweighed the bad, and Tony was happy with his lot in life.

~/~/~

As she watched Evan work with Laura to get a sketch of her captor, Ziva felt Tony pull gently on the Pack Bond they shared, a trick the team commonly used to locate one another in the field when using their cell phones was either discouraged or outright stupid. She felt her inner panther respond to the familiar call; a feeling of contentment at Tony's "touch" welled up in her, but Ziva was practiced in controlling her emotions, thanks to her Mossad training, though it was harder to do with the full moon so close.

~_We are still in Lieutenant Cadman's room, Tony,_~ she said over the Bond. ~_We are almost finished here._~

~_Got it. Thanks, Ziva,_~ Tony replied, and Ziva could almost see the easy smile he was wearing as he answered her.

Evan was just putting the last few touches on the sketch when Tony came in, and once he was finished, the Major set down the pencil he'd borrowed from the nearest Nurses' Station and then looked up at the three NCIS agents. 'Okay, I've done the best I could. Does this guy look familiar?' he asked, turning the paper-covered clipboard he'd been using as a drawing surface around. Laura had been right when she'd said Evan was talented; while it wasn't at a professional level, very few lines were wasted on the sketch.

Tony and Ziva caught Gibbs' flare of anger and annoyance when he saw the face looking out from the paper, his emotions coming in strong through the Pack Bond.

'You know him, Boss?' Tony asked as Gibbs took the sketch from Evan.

'Yeah, DiNozzo, I do,' Gibbs replied, turning on his heel and striding out of the room without so much as a backward glance at its occupants. After a hasty round of goodbyes, Tony and Ziva scrambled to catch up with their Alpha, who was royally pissed and not caring who knew it.

'Who is it, Boss?' Tony asked as they caught up with Gibbs.

'Commander Dalton,' was all that Gibbs said before jabbing at the down button for the elevator. Tony and Ziva glanced at one another, resigning themselves to the fact that they'd most likely be sleeping on the office floor a lot more until Dalton was caught. Neither one really cared, since they wanted to catch Dalton just as badly as Gibbs did, and now that they had both an eyewitness and solid forensic evidence connecting the Commander to the case, the hunt could continue in earnest.


	11. Chapter 11

Abby and Tim called Gibbs when he, Tony, and Ziva were ten minutes away from the Navy Yard, both sounding excited and talking a mile a minute.

'Gibbs, Gibbs, we got something!' Abby announced as soon as Gibbs picked up. Gibbs turned on the speakerphone and then handed the cell to Ziva so he could talk and drive safely at the same time.

'What did you find, Abbs?' Gibbs asked.

'Commander Dalton's finally turned his phone back on,' Abby said.

'He's on his way to Bethesda,' Tim chimed in. 'He'll be there in twenty minutes if traffic holds up.'

'McGee, alert the local LEOs, and then get over to Bethesda,' Gibbs ordered, flipping the switch for the siren. 'We'll meet you there. Don't engage until we get there, got it?'

'Yes, Boss,' Tim said. Gibbs ended the call and then sped up, forcing his teammates to hang on for dear life as he wove in and out of traffic, hell-bent on getting Dalton before he could get away.

~/~/~

It took less time than Tim would've thought for the rest of his team to get to Bethesda, but one look at Tony's face told him all he needed to know: Gibbs must've taken one of his infamous shortcuts, and at high speed, if past experience was any indication. Tim joined the others at the back of the black sedan they'd arrived in, watching them get geared up as he gave a quick debrief to Gibbs.

'Okay, so I checked with Personnel, and they confirmed that Commander Dalton clocked in about fifteen minutes ago,' he began, checking over his own gear for a second time, just in case. 'A nurse confirmed that he's been with his first patients of the day ever since then. Abby's tracking his cell phone to make sure he stays where he's supposed to be.'

'Good. Let's move out,' Gibbs said, and the team fell in behind him. 'Don't shoot unless you have to; I don't want any civilians getting hurt.'

'Got it, Boss,' Tony said, Ziva and Tim adding their affirmations a half-second later. They moved quickly and quietly through Reception and into the inner halls of the hospital, each keeping a hand ready to draw their sidearms.

~_Wait until the Commander comes out of the room,_~ Gibbs said over the Pack Bond. ~_Ziva, Tony, get that side of the hall; McGee and I will cover this one._~

Tony and Ziva nodded and then hid themselves out of immediate sight, with Tony ducking behind a pillar and Ziva crouching behind a housekeeping cart that had been left behind when its owner had been cleared out by hospital security. The NCIS team settled into a tense wait, all of their enhanced senses focused on the door that hid Commander Dalton from view. The wait felt interminably long to Tim, but in reality there was only a ten minute gap between when he and the others had arrived and when the door opened, revealing Commander Dalton. He paused at the sight of Gibbs and Tim waiting there for him, his posture closing off in an instant.

'Can I help you, Agent Gibbs?' Dalton asked warily. 'Did you have more questions?'

'No,' Gibbs replied with a terse shake of his head. He moved forwards, but as he did so, Dalton broke to his left, heading to what looked like an easy way out. He hadn't counted on Ziva and Tony, however. Tony tackled him to the floor, while Ziva held her gun on him, the muzzle just kissing the back of his head.

'Do not move,' she said, her voice a deadly calm. 'I assure you, this is not a toy gun, and these bullets _will_ kill you.'

Dalton went still, allowing Tony to cuff him. 'Commander Jonas Dalton, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and unwilling ensorcellment of Lieutenant Laura Cadman,' Tony said, getting off of Dalton's back and then hauling him to his feet. 'You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?'

Dalton grunted in reply, a serious case of tile burn forming on his chin from where Tony had tackled him to the ground. As Tony continued to inform Dalton of his rights, Tim poked his head through the open doorway to check on the patient Dalton had been dealing with just minutes before. The woman was sleeping soundly, a fact that was reinforced by the steady beeping of her heart monitor.

'Let's go,' Gibbs said, and then began walking towards the bank of elevators. Tony, Ziva, and Tim followed their Alpha, Dalton trudging along between Tony and Ziva. A crowd had gathered in the lobby, and murmurs broke out when those closest to the elevators saw that Dalton was in handcuffs. The muted babble followed them out to the cars, and then was cut off as soon as the front doors of the hospital slid shut.

~/~/~

Gibbs left Commander Dalton to stew in the interrogation room while he collected the necessary components of Dalton's file to use in his questioning. Abby had prepared a document that showed where Dalton's fingerprints had been found on the seat lever in Warner's car, as well as the 98% match to his Naval records. She'd also processed the newest envelope and had found a small hair that had gotten stuck to the glue on the inner flap. There had been a skin tag still attached, providing Abby with a workable DNA sample that, after it had been processed and run through the various civilian and military databases, had come back as a match to the Commander, further linking him to the previous two murders and Lieutenant Cadman's kidnapping.

'How much longer d'you think Gibbs is going to make him wait?' Tim asked, but before Ziva or Tony could answer, the door to the interrogation room opened, admitting Gibbs, who carried two things: the case file and a fresh cup of coffee. He set both items down on the table before taking a seat, not speaking a word to or looking at Dalton.

'Care to explain why two Weres who worked with you turned up dead with cryptic notes at the crime scenes?' Gibbs began after opening the file folder and pretending to read the words printed on the first page. 'Or why a third victim identified you as one of her kidnappers?'

'I had nothing to do with that,' Dalton said promptly, causing Tony to hand a ten-dollar bill to Ziva, as the two had bet on how soon Dalton would deny being involved with the crimes he'd been linked to.

'Really,' Gibbs said flatly, momentarily quirking an eyebrow before he continued on. 'Strange, because I can place you in the driver's seat of Petty Officer Warner's car.' At this point, Gibbs pulled out the fingerprint report Abby had prepared, sliding it in front of Dalton, turning it so that the Commander could read it properly. 'And I haven't even mentioned the physical evidence- DNA evidence -that links you to the kidnapping of Lieutenant Cadman. What I don't have is the reason you killed two men and endangered the life of another of your people.'

'You wouldn't understand,' Dalton said haughtily. 'I can tell you're not a man of science.'

'Try me,' Gibbs replied. 'You might be surprised.'

Dalton snorted. 'Unlikely, but since you asked, I'll try and dumb it down for you,' he said. 'While the deaths of Warner and Proctor were... unfortunate ...every medical trial has its downsides.'

'"Medical trial?"' Gibbs repeated. 'You're telling me that two good men died because you felt like playing God?'

'They weren't men, they were animals,' Dalton said, barely blinking at Gibbs' growing anger. 'The study was meant to see just what their limits were. Of course, if I had been in charge, I wouldn't have used military personnel- too high profile, in my opinion -but that was the decision of people with far more power than I'll ever have.'

From their vantage point in the observation room, Tony, Tim, and Ziva could see the tension building in the lines of Gibbs' stiff back and shoulders.

'And the notes?' Gibbs asked, a growl escaping him before he could control himself. A look of revulsion twisted Dalton's face when he realized just what Gibbs was, and his next words were short and to the point.

'I've had enough of this. I want a lawyer,' he said. 'A _human_ lawyer.' With that, he leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and then fell silent. After a few tense seconds, Gibbs grabbed his coffee and file, got up from his chair, and then left the room. His team met him in the hallway and then returned with him to their desks, where Kate was waiting for them.

'How'd it go?' she asked.

'Well, we got a confession out of him before he lawyered up,' Tim said once everyone had sat down. 'So that's something.'

'Yeah, McGee, but what about the people Dalton said were in charge of everything?' Tony replied. 'Confession or not, that doesn't sound good.'

'Shadowy figures pulling strings are never good, Tony. Trust me, I should know,' Ziva said, a dark tone in her voice. Gibbs remained silent on the matter, and his team knew better than to try and get him to join the conversation. He just stared at his computer, lost deep in thought.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days passed without incident, unless the full moon could be counted as an incident. No new bodies were found in that time, and Lieutenant Cadman was released from the hospital with a clean bill of health two days before the full moon. Dalton's labs had been searched while Gibbs' team were in the containment cells at NCIS, but all that had been found were several large, empty cages and various medial monitors. Other than that, it looked as if the labs had been quickly and efficiently emptied out.

The question of who had been responsible for said cleaning had been asked of Dalton, but he had hidden behind his lawyer's advice to say absolutely nothing, and hadn't said a word on the subject. This left the team feeling frustrated once more, Gibbs especially, but they weren't given much time too brood on it, as a new case involving drug smuggling and a missing Marine quickly took priority, and the strange case slowly faded from their immediate memories.

~/~

~Six Weeks Later~

It was three in the morning at the Naval Brig Norfolk, and all was quiet. The guards were on their early morning rounds, making sure the prisoners were all accounted for. Arnold Heron, one of the newest Corrections Officers, was just about to take a short break when a brilliant flash of light came from a nearby cell. It was gone in the split second of time it took for Arnold to blink, but he ran towards the cell as he'd been trained, wondering why any of the inmates in the surrounding cells hadn't woken up.

'Control, this is Heron. We've got a problem here,' Arnold said into his radio as he stared at the impossible sight before him.

'_What's the situation, Heron_?' the CO on duty, Danvers, asked.

'Well, I just saw a bright light come from Cell B-31, and when I went to check it out, it was empty.'

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Danvers said, '_Come again?_'

'B-31 is empty!' Arnold said, panic rising in his voice. 'Commander Dalton isn't inside!'

~/~/~

High above the planet in a specially adapted Goa'uld cargo ship, the man known as Commander Jonas Dalton finished changing out of the prison jumpsuit he'd been wearing, switching to an outfit far more to his liking.

'_Better_?' his lone rescuer asked, his voice echoing with an odd resonance.

'_Much_,' Dalton replied, his voice holding the same strange timbre. '_It's good to be finally free of that idiotic prison. It took you far too long to free me, by the way._'

'_Well, now that you're free, we can reconnect with the rest of the Tr-_'

'_No, I don't think so,_' Dalton interrupted. '_I think a better plan would be for only one of us to go._'

'_What? Why the sudden change of plans, Fen-_' Dalton's companion began to ask, but was cut off when he was shot point-blank in the head.

'_That's better,_' the Goa'uld known only as Fenrir said with a satisfied smirk. '_Not as neat as a _zat'ni'katel_, perhaps, but still quite efficient._'

Once he'd disposed of the body, Fenrir input the coordinates of the planet where he was supposed to meet up with other members of the Trust, quickly leaving Earth, and all of its inhabitants, behind as the ship jumped to hyperspace.

~/~/~

**A/N**: Well, that's it for _Adagio for the Moon_. I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it, and I assure you, there's more coming in both this 'Verse and the SGA one that's associated with it. Thanks for reading, and may you never find yourself without a good story, wherever you might travel.


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